


Ode to Charlie

by Mrs_Spooky



Category: Cowboy Bebop
Genre: Gen, Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-15
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 10:44:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6002869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Spooky/pseuds/Mrs_Spooky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike and Jet hunt down a murderer and have to deal with its aftereffects.</p><p>This story takes place on Orlo Vista, an asteroid colony.</p><p>Cast: Spike, Jet, Detective Sean Ennis, Charlie Jackson, Laughing Bull</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sand slips through outstretched fingers like time flowing through creation. _With each ending comes a new beginning, all part of the wheel of creation, ever flowing, never ending. Time. Beginnings. Endings. From outside the human construct of time, all is one. …_

 _The entity enters the abode and waits patiently. Seeking. Conflicted. Bearing a burden beyond his years after suffering great losses._ The elderly shaman listens to the young soul that presents itself to him and sees a creature that inhabits two realms. It dwells in the land of dreams and in the physical. The entity sits. 

"Swimming Bird…" 

"Hmmm?" 

"The ending creates a new beginning."

Silence.

"I see."

Silence.

"So do I ask a question? How does this work?"

The shaman scoops up another fistful of sand and opens his hand, allowing the grains to flow through his fingers into little piles below. Spike sighed, rose and was about to leave when the old man spoke up again

"A loss. Someone close. This is what I see."

Spike paused, frozen to the spot. Jet? Who? "Is that it? Who? When?" The old man starts chanting. He listened, wanting to hear more, but after several minutes of chanting, he decided that was all he was going to get. "Seeya."

***

Spike had heard rumors of the shaman called Laughing Bull a few bounties ago. He was said to be able to fortell the future. Curiously, he felt compelled to visit the old man, he wasn't sure why. Thinking back on the past he left behind, it occurred to him that he had a lot to atone for. His was a savage life that sickened him. The growing numbness in his soul forced him to make a break for freedom. Part of him was looking for reassurance that it wasn't too late to heal the harm that had been done, not only to others, but to his own soul.

His life so far as a bounty hunter was satisfactory. Not what he had in mind, but he had a friend, an ex cop, who had proven to be an honest man. Spike was starting to realise that he trusted this man, and with no little surprise found that he himself was being trusted. He was thinking of the shaman's words. _I already lost someone close._ Julia. The emptiness that loss left him with gnawed at him occasionally, but he would thrust those feelings aside. _I'll never see her again, just get used to the idea._ He had lost so many friends during his time with the syndicate, that feeling was becoming almost second nature. It was at the point where he hardly noticed it any more. _So was he telling me about my past? Or my future? Shit. Waste of time._

Making his way towards the Swordfish he thought about what the old man had said. _The only one close to me now is Jet. What the hell._ He reached his speeder and was surprised to see the Hammerhead parked nearby. Jet was waiting, arms folded across his chest.

"So, where's the next big bounty?" Jet asked genially.

"He didn't say. What are you doing here? I thought you were staying behind on the Bebop."

"I was going to, but I checked in to see if there was anyone interesting here that might be our next payday. I found an old friend was here. He retired a month ago and moved here to be closer to his family. Thought I'd pay him a visit, so we're meeting for lunch."

Someone actually MOVED here? Orlo Vista was a smallish asteroid colony, and parts of it looked fairly comfortable, but an asteroid gets very small very quickly. Spike couldn't imagine anyone actually WANTING to be here.

He lit a cigarette "Mind if I tag along for a bit?" 

Jet was surprised. "Not at all. We'll be talking old times and that's bound to get boring." 

Spike just shrugged. "I can be bored here or on the Bebop. What difference does it make?"

Jet started walking towards a business district that had some cafes set up, Spike following. Spike was wondering what made him ask if he could come along. _Am I worried about him?_ Jet was talking about his old friend Charlie Jackson and how he knew him when he was coming up in the ISSP. Charlie was a mentor and a very good friend. He lost touch with him when he himself left the force. Jet was smiling as he talked, and Spike could tell he was extremely fond of this friend of his.

They reached the cafe where Jet was to meet Charlie. A very dark complected, medium height, older man with black hair and beard flecked with grey seated at a table rose and waved, grinning broadly. Jet quickened his pace to join his friend. Much hand shaking, manly hugging and shoulder slapping ensued. Quite the joyous reunion. Spike hung back a bit, letting them say their hellos in relative privacy. Jet motioned for Spike to join them.

"Charlie, I want you to meet my partner, Spike Spiegel." Partner? Spike smiled inwardly, liking the sound of that. Charlie stuck out his hand towards the young man.

"Very pleased to meet you! Any friend of Jet's is a friend of mine. Please join us!"

Thanking him, Spike selected a chair facing the street. It was a habit he'd developed in the syndicate that was hard to break. Charlie and Jet sat facing each other, Charlie to his left, Jet to his right. After the three men had placed their orders, the two older men quickly caught up on their doings in the time since Jet had left the ISSP.

"You're a bounty hunter? I'd heard stories, but I didn't believe it. Why didn't you keep in touch?" Jet sighed and made excuses. "Tosh, boy! The 'Black Dog' has been sorely missed. Why can't we have an entire force full of men like you?" Grinning, Charlie turned to Spike, "You know why we called him the Black Dog? Because once he got his teeth in someone, he'd never let go."

Spike laughed at that and at Jet's embarrassment. The two went on trading affectionate insults and discussing old times and old acquaintances, gone but not forgotten.

Jet said it would be boring, but Spike found that he was enjoying the obvious affection between the two old friends and listening to them talk about the events in the lives that they had in the ISSP. He'd never really met honest cops and had no idea what they were like when they were off duty. He was also interested in learning more about Jet, because the man didn't talk much about his days in the ISSP. These two guys were enjoying each other hugely.

"So.." Charlie addressing Spike, "How's this guy treatin' ya? Treatin' ya ok?" 

Spike shrugged, straight-faced, "He's alright." The two men roared with laughter.

Spike learned a lot about Jet and what he was like in his time in the ISSP and his respect for him grew. Charlie made a point of filling him in about Jet when he was younger. "Impulsive, hot-headed, always rushing into situations. We needed to keep this boy on a short leash!" Spike was really liking Charlie too, finding him to be a warm, jovial sort. He struck Spike as the type of guy that lifted the spirits of everyone in his orbit. They did make a point of including him in the conversation, which was appreciated. Spike was afraid he'd be intruding on their reunion, but Charlie put him immediately at ease. He was glad he followed Jet to lunch and was particularly glad to meet Charlie.

Well into their lunch, Spike noticed that there weren't a lot of people around. It was approaching the end of the lunch hour and most of the patrons had finished their meals and gone on to whatever else they had planned for the day. As was his habit, Spike was scanning the area when he noticed a middle-aged man watching them. He made a note: solidly built, black hair, dark eyes, sharp features, full lips. Medium colored. Black jeans with green pullover shirt. He decided he didn't like the looks of the guy and was about to mention him to Jet when the man pulled out a gun and moved to aim it in their direction.

Spike hurled himself at Jet, knocking him from his chair, shouting a warning but it was too late. The sharp reports of the three shots he fired echoed from the buildings' walls as those left in the vicinity dove for cover, screaming. The three men were on the pavement around their table. Spike leaped to his feet and took off in hot pursuit of the shooter.

***

It all happened so quickly. _We were talking and laughing and suddenly we're on the ground. What the hell?_ Jet raised his head to see Spike sprinting off after a man that he assumed was the shooter. Looking for Charlie, he found his old friend, lying in a pool of his own blood. In shock, he yelled out to whoever was listening to call the police. They needed an ambulance. NOW!!

Scanning the area, he saw no threat, so crawled over to Charlie who was gasping for breath, choking on the blood that was filling his lungs. Checking him, Jet saw the bullet wound to his chest from where he was shot. Why??

"Charlie, just hang in there buddy. I'm here. It's going to be ok, just stay with me. Charlie!"

Jet tried vainly to stop the bleeding, but Charlie's wound was well beyond his skill. His old friend was gazing up at him, a small smile forming on his lips. Frantic, "Where's the ambulance??"

Off in the distance he could hear the sounds of frantic sirens rapidly approaching the area and he knew help was on its way. "Help is coming, just stay with me. Just breathe. Can you do that for me? Breathe. CHARLIE!"


	2. Chapter 2

_Son of a fucking bitch!!_ The enraged young bounty hunter was running at top speed after the shooter. He kept in his mind the image of the face and clothing he was wearing. The shooter was fast, almost as fast as Spike, so it was taking longer than he'd like to close the distance between them. The shooter caught up to a woman who was just getting into her car. Punched her, grabbed her keys and sped off in the late model Honda. No catching him now. Shit. By now he was almost three miles away from the cafe, so he trotted back to make sure Jet and Charlie were ok. His heart was in his throat, suddenly remembering Bull's words to him earlier that morning.

By the time he got back to the cafe, the place was surrounded by police cars and emergency vehicles, an ambulance slowly pulling away. "Jet!" A cop blocked his way, not allowing anyone to cross the perimeter they had set up around the cafe. Spike explained that he was there and witnessed the whole thing. He could identify the shooter. He had given chase, but the man hijacked a late model Honda and sped off. They let him in, now very interested in talking to him. Jet was sitting in the chair he had occupied laughing less than an hour ago, just staring at a chalk outline on the pavement, blood splattered everywhere. Aw man.

"You ok?" 

He didn't answer. Just sat there. Spike briefly laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. A white-haired detective who was talking to one of the perimeter guards broke free from the cluster of uniforms and walked over. 

"I'm told you witnessed the shooting. You can identify him?" Yep. "Come with me." 

The man identified himself as Detective Sean Ennis, homicide, handing Spike his card. He led him to a mobile lab that had been driven up to the scene. They collected his information: identification, bounty hunter license number, place of residence. 

They sat Spike down at a console that displayed a collection of facial features, eyes, eyebrows, ears, noses, lips, scars, jawline, hair. You name it. Spike pulled out a cigarette. One of the cops in the truck made a move to stop him, but Ennis waved him off, pulling out one of his own, lighting them both. Spike went to work, quickly picking out the features that he had burned into his brain. He quickly picked out the set of features and placed them into the facial shape. Found the hair - a brown flat-top that you don't see too much of any more. The detective watched as Spike picked out a body shape and selected clothing that closely matched what the shooter was wearing. Ennis was dividing his time between watching the image that was forming on the screen and watching Spike. He could see the detective's blue eyes studying him out of the corner of his eye, discomfort growing.

Spike surveyed the finished product and declared it to be finished.

"This is the guy." 

Ennis peered at it closely. "You're sure?" 

"Absolutely. I was facing the street when I saw him start to raise the gun to point it at us. I yelled and knocked one of my friends out of his chair, but...." 

"...the other guy didn't make it." 

That old gnawing pain was rising up again, finding and filling any hollow spots. Spike sat impassively, breathing slowly to let it flow over himself and be gone. He looked over at the detective. 

"Do you know who this is?" Ennis, glanced at him, then back at the image he had constructed. He pushed a few keys, sending it off to every police car and station in Orlo Vista and to the local and ISSP databases looking for a match. 

"How long does this take? I want to check on my friend." Spike noted the three officers standing just outside the mobile unit's door, watching the activity inside and out. 

"Depends on how long it takes to find a match. IF there is a match." 

Nodding, Spike was torn between wanting to get as much information about the clown who shot Charlie and wanting to be with Jet. He didn't want his friend facing that alone.

Ennis was still eyeing him, so Spike eyed him back. Lighting another cigarette, Ennis asked him, "How long have you known these gentlemen you were with?" 

Spike explained that he had known Jet Black for about a month and a half. Charlie he had just met that afternoon, the man being a friend of Jet's.

"I see. What exactly is your relationship with Jet Black?" 

Wondering where he was going with this, Spike replied that they were partners. "We met about a month and a half ago. He's a bounty hunter and asked if I wanted to work with him. He offered me a job, I needed it, so I took him up on it. We're friends." 

"I see."

Spike's concern was growing that they were sitting here yammering and the shooter could be getting away. Fighting down a growing impatience, Spike asked why all the questions. 

"Just collecting data. We want to get as much information as we can so we can determine who was the actual target - was the guy a bad shot and miss the intended? - and if the shooter possibly had any past history with any of you." 

"I've never seen him before, I don't think he would be gunning for me." That was the truth. It was there in the back of his mind, the possibility that the Red Dragon might someday find out he was alive and come gunning for him and everyone with him. Not here though. 

A panel buzzed. They had a match! Ennis leaned forward and punched up the information. The shooter was one Salvatore Volpe, originally from Europa. Laid off from his job, turned to crime to feed his family. Small time crook hit the big time when he shot two people in a convenience store robbery. Charge was reduced to manslaughter, sentenced to ten years in prison. Out on parole. Arresting officer.... Senior Detective Charles Jackson, ISSP.

Detective and witness sat with their cigarettes, absorbing the information. Ennis glanced at his witness. Bounty hunters just lost a friend. They're going to be hunting him too. _Guy's a cop killer now, I have no problem with that._ Ennis informed Spike that they had sealed off the portal as soon as they got the call regarding the shooting, so nobody's entered or left the colony. 

Spike spoke up, "Does anyone know he died?" 

Ennis smiled. Nope. The perimeter they had set up kept everyone out of sight of the scene.

"If Volpe thinks he's still alive, he just might come gunning for him again." With a request to keep in touch, he released the witness. Spike left him and went off in search of Jet. He wasn't in the chair he was sitting in earlier. Spike noted grimly that the blood and chalk outline had been scrubbed from the pavement.

***

Jet wanted to be alone. The cops took his statement and informed him that his friend was providing an ID of the shooter and he was free to go. Not really thinking, he entered the restaurant attached to the cafe and found a staircase leading up to an upstairs dining room with a balcony. Nobody was there, so he leaned his elbows on the railing and just stood there. This would be a good time for the numbness to show up, but it didn't. Images of Charlie, his family, his exuberance and concern for everyone around him were swirling around in his head. They hadn't seen or spoken to each other in years, but just knowing Charlie was out there made things right with the world. He lit another cigarette.

Blowing smoke, he became aware of someone who had come up beside him, standing close, leaning against the railing with him. The two men smoked in silence, staring at the garden and unoccupied garden patio below. Several minutes passed, cigarettes were stubbed out. Jet couldn't talk to his parter because of the tightness in his throat, but having him there WAS a comfort. He just couldn't say it.

"It's not fair" Spike started.

No response. 

"I'm so sorry. I can see why you guys were so close." 

No response. 

Spike lit another cigarette and filled Jet in on what transpired in the mobile lab. They had an ID on the killer. Salvatore Volpe, from Europa. Jet's eyes widened.

Jet turned to see Spike watching him from the corner of his eye. Spike asked, "You know him?" 

Jet's face was grim and set. "I know him. Charlie arrested him seven years ago." He looked hard at Spike. "What did they tell you about him?" 

Spike relayed what Ennis told him, then said "He must have gotten out early. Wanted revenge." 

Then he told Jet, "The police are going to report that he survived thinking Volpe might come after him again. They'll be ready." He paused, lighting another cigarette "It's going to be hell for his family." 

And friends, Jet thought. Jet fought down the pain and rage that was threatening to overwhelm him. He'd lost friends before, but in the line of duty. Not like this. 

Spike was still watching him. "We'll find him." Jet just looked at him. "We're bounty hunters, right? Isn't this what we do? The only difference is, there won't be a payday at the end, just payback."

***

Detective Ennis returned to his office after releasing Spiegel. He got some good information out of the kid, maybe enough to find him. Orlo Vista was in lockdown, so he wasn't leaving. He knew that the picture was being broadcast on every news program in the city for the attempted murder of a police officer. His console chimed with the information he had requested. Good! He brought it up on the view screen. He wanted to know everything there was to know about the fallen cop and his bounty hunter friends.

Charles Jackson. Race: African. Age 63. Born Venus, worked on Ganymede, Europa and Mars. Distinguished cop, thirty years in the ISSP, retired a month ago. Three times decorated for valor. Promoted to senior detective after fifteen years. Organized Crime Division. 

Jet Black. Race: Caucasian. Age 33. Born Ganymede, worked on Ganymede, Europa and Mars. ALSO distinguished cop, eight years in the ISSP, retired five years ago after an injury on the job that cost him his arm. Decorated for valor. Promoted to detective after four years. Organized Crime Division. 

Spike Spiegel. Race: Japanese. Age 24. Born Mars. Bounty hunter. _That's it?_ Found some school transcripts which showed him to be an average student. Excelled in music and languages though, fluent in Japanese, Chinese, English, Russian, Italian. Licensed bounty hunter, so he has some competence with a firearm. Yep, licensed to carry, has a driver's license, pilot's license, drives an asteroid speeder. He sighed. Kids! Turned twenty four only a few weeks ago. Ennis shook his head. Wasted youth, probably comes from money. No doubt just drifted about doing odd jobs or living with his parents. Maybe Black can set him straight.

He picked up the phone and called the officer in charge at Mercy General. The decoy was in place. They were ready. Another call was made to the ISSP office on Europa requesting everything they had on Volpe. Something wasn't adding up...

***

With the colony on lock down, there would be no getting back to the Bebop so Jet and Spike needed to find a place to stay and plan their next move. Spike located a motel in the area that wasn't the nicest place, but it was cheap and clean. He found a room with 2 twin beds and paid for two nights. This should work. Jet was silent - almost cold - for the rest of the afternoon. Spike was concerned. He didn't know him all that well yet and hadn't seen him like this. But then, I haven't seen him lose a close friend before. Sigh. The only thing Spike knew how to do was to be there for him and to keep him busy finding Volpe. Spike wanted this guy too in the worst way. The challenge in his mind was not in finding the guy, but not killing him.

There was a terminal in the room and for an extra charge, access to the interweb network. Jet had told him previously that he managed to keep access to the systems that he had before - if he didn't, he knew how to get them. 

"This is good. We need to find out everything about this guy." He patted his friend's shoulder and repeated, "We'll find him."

Jet sat down at the terminal and just stared at the blank space where the screen would be, scowling. Where is the numbness? There was just grief and rage. He knew very well who and what Volpe was. Hatred for Volpe and everything and everyone associated with him was rising for killing his dear friend, his mentor, the best person he ever knew. 

"Jet? You ok?" 

The voice snapped him out of his reverie, he rose and faced the young man who stood expectantly waiting for an answer. 

He just stared at the confused expression on Spike's face. Confusion was morphing into concern. Jet told him, "I know who Volpe is. I know WHAT he is." 

"And...?" 

"Ever hear of 'the Clan,' a syndicate on Europa?" 

Spike thought hard, then shrugged. "Just rumors. Never heard of any dealings my old organisation had with them. What about it?"

"Volpe is an enforcer with the Clan. Charlie and I were on Europa investigating their activities with certain banks that had a reach into Ganymede and Mars. Volpe got involved. He was sent to 'dissuade' us from pursuing the matter." 

Exasperated, Spike replied, "That's part of what enforcers DO. You know that, I know that." 

Spike was getting a sinking feeling about where this looked to be heading. "What does this have to do with ME? I want to get this guy for what he did too!" 

This was the absolute truth. Charlie was a great guy and a good man who did not deserve to be gunned down by anyone, much less a scumbag like Volpe, Spike thought. Spike had known him for only a couple of hours and he loved him, so he could just imagine what Jet was going through!

Jet was on a roll that could not be stopped. His voice rose. "This guy is a savage. He tried to kill me and Charlie. In the process he killed two innocent civilians in a convenience store. Charlie was in position to wing him and bring him down. He brought him in, but the syndicate owned a judge who agreed to lower the charges to manslaughter. I don't know where that story YOU were told came from, but it's far from the truth!" he spat. 

Inwardly, Spike was reeling. Calmly he said, "Again, what does this have to do with me? I was never in that syndicate. I was still in high school on Mars when all that went down. That's the truth."

In his rage and grief, all Jet knew was that a syndicate enforcer killed his mentor and closest friend, and here he was talking to a syndicate enforcer. EX enforcer, but the same breed of scum that killed Charlie. Scum that shouldn't be allowed to breathe the same air as a man like Charlie. The look of shock on Spike's face told Jet that he was actually saying these things out loud. Yelling them. Jet caught himself and stopped, but it was too late. The young face in front of him had gone from shock to hardened, tempered steel - a face that was almost unrecognizable.

Spike turned and headed towards the door. "Spike!" 

Hand on knob, the stranger half turned, looked at him from the corner of his eye and simply said "Good luck." Then he was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

"What do you MEAN you have no information?? Let me talk to your lieutenant!" 

Detective Ennis was not having a good day. The investigation of yesteray's shooting was going nowhere fast. They had a description of the shooter, thanks to a sharp-eyed witness, and a positive identification in the ISSP database, but no details that would help them even SEARCH for the guy were forthcoming. The image Spiegel put together had been transmitted everywhere in Orlo Vista and outside of a number of false alarms, they had nothing. Ennis was not inclined to wait for this cockroach to come up for air. The public tends to weary of looking out for suspects, wanted posters become part of the scenery and are no longer noticed. They will not be able to keep the colony sealed up for more than a few days, so they had to find this guy fast.

Ennis wanted to know WHY a man who killed two people in a convenience store was arrested by a senior detective in the organized crime division. He wasn't buying the excuse that he was in the store when a robbery was taking place. He had read the report of the incident just this morning, it was not an attempted robbery gone bad. Witnesses reported Volpe entered the store and fired his weapon. He had a target, and Ennis suspected that the target was the arresting detective. But why?

The officer was sorry, but the lieutenant was not available at the moment, can he call you back? Ennis left his number and hung up. He rubbed his forehead. _I've been in the office for only an hour and my head is pounding._ He sighed heavily, noticing that his coffee cup was empty. Rising to refill it, he was interrupted by his ringing telephone. Hoping it was ISSP Europa, he answered. The voice at the other end surprised him.

"This is Spike Spiegel, we talked yesterday about the Jackson murder. We need to talk, can we meet?"

***

_"A loss. Someone close. This is what I see."_

Spike had fled the room after Jet's tirade. He called him scum, not worthy to breathe the same air as a man like Charlie. He was yelling, red-faced. Spike knew that Jet had been deeply affected by Charlie's death, but it never occurred to him that HE would be blamed for what happened. He couldn't hide the shock, but once he collected himself, he could sure hide anything else that came up.

_"A loss. Someone close. This is what I see."_

The shaman's words began to haunt him. Jet had exposed him to a life that didn't involve hurting, terrorising or killing people. Here was a good, decent, honest man who he thought he could trust - who appeared to be trusting HIM - and now by some association with his past life, he was blamed for the death of a wonderful human being who he himself found he cared about. Spike just kept walking, the mix of emotions that were threatening to take over were taking their own sweet time to flow off to wherever the hell they go. 

_"A loss. Someone close. This is what I see."_

Digging in his pocket, Spike hunted for a cigarette only to find that he was out. Shit. Finding a grocery store, Spike picked up three more packs. He had a feeling they wouldn't last long. While he was there, he grabbed some premade sandwiches. He wasn't going to be able to leave for a while and didn't have enough money in his account for more lodging, gate tolls AND food for more than a few days, so he had to make it last until he could find a way to earn more.

By now it was heading into evening. It was getting dark, and the temperature was dropping. Not having his coat or any place to stay, he made his way to the Swordfish to spend the night. _I've done it before, I can do it again. Maybe I should just get used to this._ He did have some property left on the Bebop that he'd be wanting. At some point, he'd have to contact Jet to arrange to have it sent to him, because he doubted he'd be allowed back on board. He had no idea if that was grief talking or if Jet really meant it. _I don't have to think about that now. I'll deal with it when the time comes._

Reaching the Swordfish, he climbed aboard, turned on the heat and ate one of the sandwiches he bought. Spike tried not to look at the Hammerhead that was parked nearby, a reminder of a life that he thought he was going to have, of a friend that may be lost because of the hand he had been dealt by life and a tragedy over which he had no control. Spike settled himself in for the night and fell into a fitful sleep.

***

He's gone!

Jet was horrified. He had said some terrible things to someone who did not deserve them, and now he's gone. What frightened Jet the most was the change that had come over his young friend as he left. Shit, that must have hurt. _What the fuck was WRONG with me?_ It wasn't bad enough that he had lost Charlie that day, but now he had lost Spike as well and that was his own fault. _Should I call him? No, what would I say?_ 'I'm sorry' wouldn't cut it. _I had to go and throw THAT up into his face._ He opened the door and looked out, "Spike!" but he was nowhere in sight. Not knowing what to do, Jet just stood there for several minutes, trying to figure out what the hell happened. One minute, Spike was trying to get working on finding Volpe, the next Jet was blaming HIM for what Volpe did. Charlie always did tell him that he was hot headed and impulsive, but he thought he had grown out of that. 

Jet ran his hand over his head trying to think of what he could do to fix this blunder. Despite his past, and whatever circumstances that brought him to that life, Jet had learned from his short association with him that Spike was a good person. He had a large, generous heart and a gentle one at that, even though he was mostly successful at hiding it. How the hell did he ever get involved with the syndicate in the first place? He certainly didn't belong with them. Jet sat himself back down at the terminal in the room. He needed more information on Volpe if he was going to track him down. The police would be investigating, but based on what Spike had told him, they knew nothing beyond the description he had provided. Jet checked the Orlo Vista local news site to see if they were reporting any progress. Nothing, just that Jackson was at Mercy General hospital in guarded condition and was expected to survive. Jet swallowed the lump in his throat and read on. The public was alerted to be on the look out for Salvatore Volpe. Below that was the composite picture that Spike had put together. It was an exact likeness. Good job!

He logged into the ISSP database and began his search. He remembered the case and knew where it was filed and that's where he started the search. Where would Volpe go? He knew there was information on the man, he just needed to find it. It took him a few hours, but he did manage to find something about him. Volpe had a gambling problem. There were reports of debts owed to a few of his syndicate's own loan sharks. This might help. Jet then began to search for information regarding gambling establishments on this colony. If he was going to be stuck here, Volpe may turn to these places for entertainment. By now it had gotten late and Jet realised he needed to turn in. He wanted to be fresh in the morning if he was going to track down Charlie's killer. Switching off the terminal, he rose to get ready for bed. Turning, he saw the two beds there that were requested, and remembered that he was now alone. He had driven Spike away and he was again on his own. It occurred to him to wonder where Spike would sleep for the night. Jet didn't keep track of Spike's finances, so had no idea how much money he had. Did he get his own room or would he sleep in the Swordfish? He hoped he would get his own room, it had to be hell to spend the night in a pod.

Jet sighed. As long as the colony was in lock down, he will still be here. I'll find him before they open the portal and see if I can get him back, he thought. He wondered if Spike would be able to forgive him. Jet climbed into bed, Spike's last words to him echoing in his head, "Good luck."

***

The sun was shining through the pod directly into his eyes. Wincing, Spike rubbed his eyes. That was one weird-assed dream! He'd had vivid dreams before, but not since he was a kid. Opening bleary eyes, he thought about the dream from the night before. He had a friend and was a bounty hunter of all things! He was shot, stuck in the Swordfish with a guy who smelled like hell itself. Met some strange shaman then a man he really liked was killed in front of him. Then he lost the friend, and his home. It was a mostly good dream, but turned into a nightmare. He closed his eyes and rested for a moment before climbing out and stretching out the familiar stiffness from sleeping in the Swordfish's pod.

Opening his eyes, Spike looked around, not remembering where he had landed this time. The terrain was vaguely familiar. Turned to the left and saw another craft parked nearby. _Where have I seen that before?_ That was from his dream. Hammerhead. Shit. It all came back to him. What a mess. Charlie. Jet. Spike sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes again, not wanting to wake up. He was going to HAVE to wake up though, because he needed to take a wicked leak. Opening the pod, Spike climbed out, landing heavily. Yawning, he looked around to see if anybody was nearby. There isn't, this is good. He briefly contemplated using the landing gear on the Hammerhead, but decided against it. There was a utility pole nearby that will do nicely. 

Still scanning the area, Spike unzipped and did the needful against the utility pole. Like a dog. _Maybe I should lift my leg._ Once he was finished, he climbed back up to the pod and opened a small compartment and pulled out some hand wash gel. Made use of that, then rummaged around, searching the contents for a toothbrush. Nope, that was on the Bebop. Great.

Spike remembered the elderly shaman that was nearby. He headed off in his direction. _If he can't tell me where Volpe is, maybe he can tell me more about this 'loss.' _It looked like he was talking about Jet. He initially feared he would be killed, but obviously there are other ways of losing people. Reaching the junk-filled teepee like tent, Spike poked his head inside and found the man seated in the same spot he occupied the day before. Does he ever sleep? Would we even be able to tell? Remembering how things went the day before, he just sat down opposite him near the door, wondering if the old man would even remember him.__

__Bull opened his eyes and gazed directly at Spike, looking through him._ _

__"Swimming Bird. You have questions."_ _

___I have about a hundred damn questions._ "Yes," he said. _ _

__He opened his mouth to ask, but Bull simply raised a hand for silence. The shaman picked up a fistfull of sand, closed his eyes and meditated for a moment or two. Fingers uncurled and spread so the sand it held could flow through his fingers into little piles on the ground below._ _

__"The fox can be found to the east where the eagle nests."_ _

__"I see. About what you said yesterday..."_ _

__The old shaman didn't open his eyes, "I tell you what I see. Nothing more."_ _

__Spike dug for his wallet but Bull raised his hand, palm outward in refusal. Spike thanked him and left. Bull opened his eyes and watched him go. Twice he had looked into the entity's young soul. He liked what he saw there and called down the Great Spirit's blessings on him. _We shall meet again.__ _

___At least now I have something to go on! Volpe is Italian for "Fox". This guy's good!_ Spike pulled out his communicator to call Jet, then stopped, remembering. He sighed. He was going to have to face him again sooner or later. He just didn't feel like doing it now. _Just let him calm down, then maybe we can talk. Or I can get my shit back and be on my way._ Staring at the phone, he reached into his pocket and found the card he was given the day before. Detective Sean Ennis, homicide. He dialed the number and it was answered on the second ring. _ _

__"This is Spike Spiegel, we talked yesterday about the Jackson murder. We need to talk, can we meet?"_ _

____

***

Detective Ennis jotted down Spiegel's location and informed him that he will be there in a half hour. _Maybe the bounty hunters found something. If so, they're good, 'cause we sure as hell don't have anything._ Grabbing another cup of coffee, he headed out to his car to pick up the bounty hunters.

Spiegel said he was on the outskirts of town not far from the cafe where Jackson was murdered and it didn't take long to reach them. He found the tall, slender young man standing beside two personal carriers, one of them being his own speeder. Spiegel approached the car and got in. 

"Where's your friend?" 

"Busy. It's just me."

Ennis turned off the motor and asked him what he had. Spike informed him that Volpe wasn't robbing a convenience store to feed his family when he shot those patrons, but was an enforcer from the Clan, a syndicate on Europa. Jackson and Black were the targets because they were getting too close to Clan operations. 

"Are you sure about this?" 

"Totally. Jet told me about it last night. He didn't see the shooter, but he sure recognised the name."

NOW it was adding up. If there is syndicate involvement, then it's no wonder the ISSP won't give him anything. He sighed, the ISSP is so corrupt these days they're probably working to hide the Clan's hand in the convenience store murders as well as Jackson's. 

"I"ve been trying to get some information about Volpe from ISSP Europa, but they won't talk to me. Does Black have anything that we can use?" 

Spike hesitated. _How do I tell a cop that an elderly shaman told me where to look?_ "I heard he has an affinity for eagles. Know any place like that?"

"An affinity for eagles? What the hell does that mean?" 

Spike just shrugged. "Just what I was told." 

He watched the detective closely for any signs of recognition. Ennis started the car, turned it around and headed back into town with Spike.


	4. Chapter 4

Sunshine streaming through the windows hitting eyeballs roused the bounty hunter. With a groan, he rolled over, placing his pillow over his head. Jet was almost afraid to get out of bed. He remembered what happened the LAST time he got out bed - his life turned to shit, half of it was his own fault. 

Sighing, Jet sat up, blinking in the light. Trying not to look at the unslept in bed next door, he made his way into the bathroom. He dressed and made his way out to the restaurant that was connected to the motel, the smell of breakfast heavy in the air. While he was waiting for his food, Jet thumbed through some flyers he picked up at the entrance, looking for any hints about gambling joints. It didn't take long to find out that there was no gambling allowed in the Orlo Vista colony, so there weren't any. No LEGAL places that is. 

Once he finished his breakfast, Jet walked outside and lit a cigarette. Volpe can't be out and about, hiding in plain site. His mug was everywhere, thanks to Spike. If he gets out, someone will see him and call it in. No, there has to be a part of town where someone like him could find sanctuary. It's not going to be an affluent area, so he'll have to check the slummier parts. 

Checking with the desk, Jet learned that they had a car rental counter. He found the counter and rented a car for a couple of days. Driving off, he started exploring the colony, looking for the part of town that could possibly house someone like Volpe. 

It looked like a pretty nice place overall. Jet wondered what part of town Charlie was living in and where his family would be. Swallowing the lump forming in his throat, Jet made plans to find Charlie's family before he left to give them his condolences.

Finding the part of town he was looking for, he slowed the car, driving through ruined, dirty neighborhoods and business districts. Parking the car, he got out, locked it then hoofed it to see if he could find anyone who could tell him what he wanted to know. The streets were devoid of life so far, so he kept walking until he found someone. There was a teenager sitting on some cracked concrete steps. He had something of a faraway look in eyes that were embedded in a hardened expression. The kid kind of reminded him of Spike, having seen glimpses of that same expression on him. The kid pulled out a cigarette, and fished around for a lighter. Jet pulled out a cig of his own, producing a lighter. He flicked it, lighting the teen's cigarette then his own. The teen grunted indifferently and went back to whatever thoughts were occupying him.

"I don't want to take up too much of your time, but I'm looking for a little action and wondered if you could point me in the right direction." 

"What kind of action?" teen asked through his cigarette. 

"I like a good card game. I LOVE the dice. Don't even mind the occasional dog or cock fight."

Teen snorted and leaned back. He looked his visitor up and down through a cloud of smoke, evaluating him. Rough-looking massive guy, mechanical arm, scarred face with some metal piece screwed into his cheek bone. His clothes were ratty, unkempt beard. Could still be a cop, but no cop would walk around looking like THAT, not even deep under cover. NOBODY takes the job THAT far. He jerked his thumb towards his right. 

"Eagle's Nest. It's a club that has a basement. You need a pass phrase to get down the stairs though." He puffed the cig for a bit. "Raging beast devours."

***

Detective Ennis was thinking hard. "Affinity for eagles?" The bounty hunter was quiet on the way into town, apparently lost in his own thoughts. "Eat yet? Need anything?"

Spiegel thought about it. "I had a sandwich earlier. Could use something to eat." He eyed Ennis's coffee, "Tea would be great." 

Nodding, Ennis pulled his car into a fast food place that had a drive up window. Spike found something on the menu he liked, Ennis decided to get the same. He added a large coffee and a tea to the order. Picking up the food, he handed Spiegel his breakfast and tea. He swung the car around, pulling into an open spot, parked it and shut off the engine. 

"How much do I owe you?" Spiegel asked. 

Ennis shook his head, "On me. I owe YOU for the information you had. Appreciate it." 

"Thanks!"

"Affinity for eagles, eh?" 

Loading his breakfast into his face with one hand, Ennis used the other to punch up a screen on his in vehicle terminal. A search for 'eagle' brought up a number of hits that were displayed on his screen. 

"Maybe there is a place that has 'eagle' in its name." 

There were twelve, Ennis read them off, "Eagle Contracting, Martian Eagle Fashions, George Eagle Consulting, Eagle's Nest..." 

Spike stopped him, "What's this Eagles Nest? Where is that?" 

Looking at the bounty hunter curiously, Ennis tapped the Eagle's Nest entry to bring up its information and a map to its location.

He sighed, "Night club. This has to be THE worst part of the entire colony. Nobody in their right mind goes there...." he stopped suddenly. Cop and bouny hunter exchanged looks. The detective picked up his communicator and asked for a colleague in the vice division. "Steve, this is Sean. Hey, I have a question for you. Eagle's Nest, what do you know about it? It's in the Parramore district." 

Steve reported that it was a pretty well known lowlife hangout. Strip club upstairs, with frequent busts for prostitution. And it has a basement they were investigating. No signs that they were running a drug lab. That was all they knew.

They had finished their breakfast, and Ennis started the car. He hated going into that part of town, but this may be the only lead they have. Pulling out of the fast food place, he turned right and headed towards Parramore. 

"Parramore is 'east' of here. Let's see what this place looks like." 

The surroundings started growing more and more dilapidated, turning to ruin. Finally, Parramore. Ennis drove his car slowly through the narrow streets, heading ever closer to their destination. There it was, on the left. The sign over the main entrance had a cartoon-looking eagle sitting in a nest, straddled by a half naked woman who was holding a martini glass aloft. Classy place.

Spike eyed the neighborhood. This was an environment he had grown used to. The detective had moved on a few blocks then turned a corner. They had passed a few people on the street, but no major activity. Spike asked him to pull over. He wanted to get out and ask some questions. Ennis pulled over, but hesitated before unlocking the door. He knew this was a bad part of town and someone like Spiegel could find himself over his head in a hurry. The bounty hunter was a tall, skinny, green haired Japanese kid. He wouldn't have a chance with some of the lowlife that lived here. Spike saw the look and just smiled. 

"I can handle myself. It'll be fine." Sighing Ennis unlocked the door and let him out. "Circle the block. Meet me back here in about 20 minutes," and off he went.

***

Spike hadn't gotten too far before he found a teen sitting on some concrete steps. The kid sat there expressionless, barely moving except to flick away a cigarett butt. Spike sighed, well too aware of the kind of life that would put that expression on someone's face. Lighting a cigarette of his own, Spike ambled over and stood over the kid, hands in pockets, cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

"Yo, kid."

Sighing, the teen looked up to see the tall, slender young Martian looming over him. He sized the guy up, his clothes and whole bearing just SCREAMED cool. _Shit, he's not much older than I am!_ He locked eyes with the guy who smiled. 

" 'sup?" 

The Martian flicked the ash off the end of his cigarette. "Not much, just exploring. Looking for something to do." 

The teen snorted. "This ain't Mars. Nothin' here. Move along."

"Not Mars? No shit, sherlock. I'm stuck here until they release the portal. I've been all over this colony looking for something fun. Not findin' it. What do you do for fun around here, anyway?" 

The teen yawned and stretched, "Mostly roll drunks. There's a place a few blocks from here that I use as my supplier for that little hobby." Laughter. "Yeah, they turn out the drunks all right." 

Spike asked him what place was that. 

"Eagle's Nest, just a few blocks that way," he said jerking his thumb.

"Eagle's Nest, huh? Is that all they do in there? Get drunk?" 

"Nah, they have other stuff too. There's a strip club upstairs. The girls are all right. Dancing and drinking on the main floor." He paused. "They have a basement if you like to play cards, dice or if you like to wager." 

Spike looked interested. "You know, I'm a pretty good poker player. Think I'll check it out. Thanks!" 

He started off in the direction of the jerked thumb, but teen called him back. 

"You need a pass phrase to get down there though, and they don't open till tonight." 

"Oh? How does one get this pass phrase?" 

The teen smirked, "You ask for it, dumbass." Guffaw. 

Spike grinned, "Who do I have to ask to get the pass phrase, dipshit?" 

"I might have it." 

The teen fished out a crumpled cigarette pack and found that it was empty. Spike had a couple packs left from his trip to the store the night before. He tossed them to the kid. "Here, these are for you. What's the pass phrase, please?"

The teen looked at him, surprised. Looking more closely, the Martian kind of reminded him of himself, what he could be if he made something of himself. He was still very young and probably had to work hard for whatever he got. Not interested in working that hard. He flashed a toothy grin, "Raging beast devours."

***

Ennis circled the area, hoping he did the right thing in letting the kid out there. He's a bounty hunter. It's a rough life and he said he could handle himself. Hmm. Maybe he DIDN'T live in his parents' house. He pulled up to the curb where he dropped off Spiegel and was about to do another circuit of the neighborhood when he spotted the rangy bounty hunter, hands in pockets, headed towards him. Relieved, he idled until the kid caught up to the car. He was nearly there when two guys jumped out of the alley he had just passed and headed right for him. Shit! He started out of the car when he paused. The bounty hunter heard them coming and whirled on them, catching each man as they reached him, tossing them like rag dolls into the gutter. He saw Ennis and waved, smiling. He got in the car, the detective speeding away.

"Gambling den in the basement. They aren't open until tonight." 

Ennis whistled in admiration "Nice work! You think Volpe will show tonight? Who's your source? What else do they know?" 

_You wouldn't believe me if I told you._ "Let's just say that my source is not from around here." Spike hesitated. He liked this cop. _When did I start getting along with cops? Since Jet, dumbass!_ "One more thing. There is a pass phrase to get into the basement. 'Raging beast devours.' "

***

Driving his rented car out of what he learned was called the Parramore district, Jet lit a cigarette, blowing smoke in frustration. He had tried the door on the club, and naturally it wasn't open until tonight. He hoped his information was accurate, about Volpe having a gambling problem. Otherwise, he'd have to start from the beginning and he didn't relish the thought. He wanted this guy bad, but he needed to get back to work. Fuel won't buy itself. He sighed. Attempts to locate Charlie's family had come up empty. He had several hours to kill before he could go back to the Eagle's Nest to find Volpe, and he would have liked to have spent it with Charlie's family.

The car he was driving had a full tank of gas, so Jet explored the colony a bit. Other than Parramore, it was pretty nice. _Don't think I could live on an asteroid though._ He grew tired of exploring and just started driving to no place in particular. His reverie was interrupted when he realised that he was on his way out to where he had left the Hammerhead. _Might as well check on it as long as I'm in the area._ Yeah he was bored and had to admit that he was getting lonely. He reached the Hammerhead and switched off the car. Getting out, he saw that the Swordfish was still where Spike had left it, wings neatly folded up overhead. He looked around and saw nobody. He checked out his craft and saw that it was in the same state he left it. Climbing down he hesitated, then walked over to the Swordfish. He climbed up onto its body and looked in the pod. Nobody there. What could he be doing? Aaaahhh shit.

He pulled out his communicator and dialed.


	5. Chapter 5

Ennis was heading back to the station. He had called in to his captain about what he found and was informed that they had just received a call that Volpe was seen in the area. He was ordered back to make arrangements for setting up the stake out of the Eagle's Nest and setting up undercover officers for at least a 6 block radius. He didn't want this cop killer to get away. He hung up the phone. Glancing over at the quiet young man in the seat beside him it occurred to him that he had underestimated the young bounty hunter. HE identified the shooter and produced an accurate likeness. HE came up with the only lead they had. HE is the one who discovered what was in the basement at the Eagle's Nest. Vice is going to want to check that out, and why the HELL couldn't THEY get that information? 

"You can come back to the station with me if you like. Or I can drop you somewhere...." He was hoping Spiegel would come back to the station with him. Ennis had the feeling this young man could teach some of his cops a thing or two. 

Spike thought about it and sighed. He had no place to go and all day to get there. He opened his mouth to answer when his communicator chimed. He started, not expecting any calls. It chimed again. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw that it was Jet calling. He just stared at it. It chimed again. Oh hell. He pushed the button, "Yeah."

Ennis tried his best to listen. Spiegel had the communicator up to his ear, so he could only hear one side of the conversation. Not that it was much of a conversation, it seemed the person at the other end was doing all the talking, Spiegel just listening. He was staring straight ahead, his face expressionless. Finally, he said, "Ok," and disconnected. Spiegel looked over at him, "Do you think you could drop me where you picked me up? At my ship?" 

"Sure, if that's what you want." He adjusted his course, angling over to the outskirts where his speeder was located. 

"One more thing. Would it be possible to get Charlie's family's address? There are respects to be paid."

***

Jet hung up and waited. HE felt better having talked to Spike about what happened the night before. If he decided to leave him and the Bebop, at least he would know that he wasn't being blamed for what happened to Charlie, and no he does NOT think he's scum, that was just him being hot headed and emotional and not thinking about what he was saying, and it will never happen again. Jet was concerned that there was no response when he talked and he hoped Spike was listening. The only response he got was the "Ok" when he asked if he could meet him at the ships.

A half hour later, a blue car approached. Jet shaded his eyes with his hand and saw Spike in the passenger seat, an older, white-haired man who looked to be approaching 60 years old driving. The car stopped about ten feet away. The driver had taken his communicator out, talking to someone, writing something down. _Who is this guy, and what's he doing with Spike?_

Ennis had reached the ships where Black was waiting. He wondered if there was some trouble between the two, as Spiegel seemed tense. Asking Spike to wait, he called the station and got the phone number and address for Jackson's family and wrote it down for him. Handing him the note, he said, "Hang on, son." 

He pulled out another card and wrote a number on the back. "If you need anything. A place to stay, whatever. Call me. I can help." 

Gratefully, Spike accepted the address and the card and opened the door.

Jet walked over to the car, Ennis getting out and walking around the front to meet him. He stuck his hand out, "Detective Sean Ennis, Homicide. I'm the lead investigator of the Jackson murder. You're Jet Black, friend of Jackson's, right?" 

Jet shook the hand that was presented and nodded. He didn't remember seeing him there yesterday, but then, the hours immediately following Charlie's murder were mostly a blur. It was just now occurring to him that Spike must have taken care of everything.

Sensing an awkwardness between the two bounty hunters, Ennis kept talking, "Thanks to Spiegel here," he said clapping the young man on the shoulder, "we've got a solid lead on finding Volpe. Without such a strong witness we'd have nothing to go on and Volpe might have escaped. I'm on my way back to set up a team to move in and grab him. Preparations are already being made."

Ennis realised he didn't want to leave Spike behind, as there was more to the boy than met the eye. His file was sparse, but that didn't mean he did nothing when he got out of school. Being the cop that he was, he wanted to know what. MAYBE he had a misspent youth, but he looked like he had gotten his act together and would make something of himself. He hoped so. He took his leave waving goodbye. 

The bounty hunters watched the car head back towards town. There was an awkward moment, neither of them looking at the other. Jet broke the silence, scratching his head, "Umm, Spike." 

Spike turned and started walking back towards town, "I'm starving," he said over his shoulder, "let's get lunch. You're buying."

Jet took Spike to the restaurant where he had breakfast earlier in the day. The food was surprisingly good. And filling. They selected a booth as far away from the other patrons as they could get and placed their orders. Jet started talking about what he found about Volpe and his penchant for gambling, then finding the Eagle's Nest in Parramore, even getting the pass phrase to get into the basement where the gambling den was. He didn't know if there were other places where Volpe could go, but this was a good place to start. Spike was half listening. He didn't know about the gambling habit, but Jet's and his information meshed. Plus with what Bull had told him, he felt certain he'd be found there.

***

The station was in a quiet uproar with preparations being made for tonight's operation. Detective Ennis was reviewing the placement of officers, snipers, undercover, and other operation support personnel. He wanted that area sealed up so tight a mosquito couldn't escape. The station had received a call about an hour earlier from a citizen who reported seeing Volpe in the Parramore district, confirming Spiegel's source that Volpe would be in the area. He had people on the street now, watching the place, ready to report any sightings. With the illegal gambling going on, Vice was now involved, so they'll clean up two problems at once. They just need to grab this guy without anyone getting killed. Ennis was signing the last of the orders when an officer entered the conference room informing him of an incoming call.

***

Spike didn't say much during lunch except to tell Jet that the cops knew about the Eagle's Nest and that Volpe had been seen in the area. They were setting up the bust now. He didn't have anything else TO say. He was knotted up inside and wished he was somewhere where he could work out. A nap would help a LOT. He started thinking about Charlie and Detective Ennis. Two cops he just met who he found he liked a lot who treated him with respect. This was all very new to him. Some more things were occurring to him about the shooting and Charlie's death.

"Spike." 

Jet was still talking but he had stopped listening. He looked up to see Jet watching him closely. Spike smiled wryly, "Sorry. Distracted by shiny object." 

"Never mind. It wasn't important." 

The waitress arrived with their order. The two ate in silence, both men deep in thought. Jet paid the check as Spike excused himself to hit the men's room. As soon as he entered the room, he pulled out the card and communicator and called the number on the front. It was answered on the first ring. He had another piece of information for Ennis - Jet had found information about Volpe's gambling problem and debt to some of his syndicate's own loan sharks. He also asked for a call as soon as Volpe was arrested. 

"You got it!" 

He hung up, then washed his face in the sink. Checking the mirror, he straightened his hair and went out to join Jet.

The two men left the restaurant and lit a cigarette. Jet had been watching his young friend's expressionless face during their lunch and knew he was probably still smarting from what he had said to him the night before. _I have a lot of amends to make,_ he thought. 

Jet started making plans for being there when the bust went down, maybe, just maybe, they'd be able to catch him instead. He wanted a piece of this guy. 

Spike spoke up at last, "Volpe knows what we look like. If he sees us in the area, he's gonna bolt." Jet stopped short. "I'll tell you something else. He fired three shots yesterday. How many wounds did Charlie have?" 

Jet thought back, trying to remember, "Just the one." 

Spike nodded. "Volpe was gunning for the three of us. For whatever reason, he was here to take out Charlie and anyone who was with him. Typical enforcer operation." It pained him to know these things, but that's life.

Jet sighed, running his hand over his head, then down to rub his neck. Frustrated with himself, he knew Spike was right. This is something he should have known. Shit! I'm not thinking! Have I gone completely to pieces? He tilted his head back, looking up at the dome and the twinkling red lights surrounding the portal. The cops here have responded quickly and efficiently. Looks like they're doing everything right. He sighed. "We should let the police handle this."

***

It was a long afternoon. Jet had finally gotten Spike to start talking again and he seemed to be almost back to the young man he met on Io. Jet picked up a deck of cards from a nearby pharmacy and the two started up a game of gin in their room. Spike kept winning to Jet's frustration until Spike informed him that he was stacking the deck. Outrage at this news was met with laughter. He showed Jet how he was doing it and told him about some common cheats at cards. Valuable information to be filed away. Jet was shuffling the next hand when Spike's communicator chimed. He answered and listened to the voice on the other end.

"Thanks. And thanks again for everything," he hung up. Jet looked at him quizzically. "They got him."

***

To Jet's wonder, Spike had presented him with the address and phone number for Charlie's family, courtesy of Detective Ennis. Jet called Charlie's wife and was informed that the family was gathering for a wake the next morning, and they would love it if he could be there. Dress doesn't matter, we know you were stuck there, just come as you are. You are more than welcome. The cops had released the blockade and the traffic jam in and out of Orlo Vista guaranteed that it would be at least a day before they'd get out, so Jet and Spike made their way to Charlie's house where his family had gathered.

There were tears and reminiscences of the man that they knew and loved so much. Jet spent time with Becky, Charlie's wife, whom he had met several years before. She remembered him from Europa and appreciated his being there. VERY glad to see him, thanks for coming!

Jet looked around to see how Spike was making out. With no little guilt, Jet realised that his friend had been left on his own in a house full of grieving people he'd never met. He saw Spike talking to Charlie's brother, a burly retired shipbuilder. He couldn't hear what Spike said to him, but the big guy tearfully wrapped his arms around him and gave him a squeeze that looked like would break bones.

Spike had approached the house with some trepidation. He was used to dealing with grieving people, but this time he was meeting people he'd never met who were grieving the loss of someone he himself had known for only a few hours. There wasn't much he could say, so it was best to just listen. He followed Jet into the house and found it filled with warm, gracious, welcoming people. Just like Charlie. Fortunately folks wanted to share their memories of Charlie, so Spike didn't have to talk much. The picture that was being painted of the man was such that Spike regretted not meeting him sooner. He erred in saying that to Charlie's brother because the man grabbed him in a bruising hug. He didn't mind. What's a few bruises as long as you're still breathing afterward? he thought ruefully.

***

The bounty hunters returned to their motel room. The news report said that the traffic jam at the portal was clearing, so they should be able to leave sometime tomorrow. After taking turns in the shower they prepared to turn in for the night. Jet was looking forward to getting back to the Bebop, then on to the next bounty. He just wanted to put Orlo Vista and the horror of the last two days behind him. Jet turned out the light.

"Spike"

"Yah"

"You coming back to the Bebop?"

"Yah"

Smiling, Jet rolled over and fell asleep.


End file.
